About

My story

I left home at 18 with no vision and quite frankly no motivation to live. I was crippled by childhood trauma and poor health. I had been suffering from mental health issues and addictions, including loneliness, social media addiction, promiscuity, depression, social anxiety, self-harm, and suicidal ideation for as long as I could remember. Looking back, it seems my childhood was a never-ending wave of emotional dysregulation. My parents, well intentioned, were products of their own environments growing up. I believe everyone is doing their best with the skills they have. My parents did just that. They did not have the introspectiveness or awareness to realize that their programmed behaviors and parenting styles were harmful. And inside them were, still, younger versions of themselves hurting and yearning for the unconditional love that their parents were unable to give them. 

Among parenting issues, I was also exposed to the dark web when I was in elementary school. I had been playing on our family desktop computer, both my parents worked full time, and the babysitter wasn’t always attentive. My siblings and I were often left to our own devises. I had stumbled across some pornographic content on YouTube which led me down the rabbit hole of the porn industry. I was curious about what I saw and had so many questions. I’d come home from school every day to explore this content. Not long after my initial exposure my parents found out about my internet activity, but at that point it was too late. This content was imprinted in my subconscious. Later on, I was gifted an iPhone in middle school, because of bullying, chronic loneliness, and social anxiety I would often confide in people I met in chatrooms online. This led to my exposure to the BDSM community and online pedophilia. I was groomed from my early teenage years all the way until 17 years old when my parents were informed by my therapist about what had been going on and the police quickly became involved. They never caught the men. I feel it is important to add this part of my story to show just how easy it is for criminals to access your children these days. By giving your children, a phone, laptop, or even the ability to freely use YouTube and video gaming platforms like Roblox allows these sick twisted individuals direct access to your children’s minds.

So, when it was time to leave home, I naturally felt overwhelmed. Charlie Kirk argues in his book The College Scam that college is no longer a question of if you’re going but where. This is exactly how I felt my senior year of high school. I followed the pack and applied to colleges across the United States and Canada, having no idea what I wanted to do. I was among the many who left for college amidst the Covid-19 pandemic. I sat in my single dorm room at Mount Allison University in New Brunswick studying music, completely isolated. I felt this overwhelming sense of nihilism creeping in. I had gone to college hoping for a higher education and some sort of life purpose and instead, I was subject to a culture of immediate gratification, alcoholism, drugs, hookup culture, date rape, student debt, and progressive conformity.

Then I fell in love with a guy, let’s call him Frank. Our relationship progressed quickly, call me a hopeless romantic, and I soon moved to Halifax, NS to be with him. During this time and with the encouragement of Frank I cut contact with my parents, I was filled with raw anger. I was stuck blaming much of the issues I was facing on them. And I didn’t want to be reminded of my painful childhood through association.

Frank was 48 (I know..), on a path to starting a family farm. I admired his vision and wanted to be a part of it. Really, I just wanted to be with him, Frank was the father figure I never had. He introduced me to the world of alternative nutrition. I found out the food pyramid was a scam, and I lost 25 pounds through following his advice (eating mostly ketogenic). I decided to research further. I delved into the world of traditional nutrition and gut health. I had severe IBS by the time I was 16. Through the works of Dr. Natasha McBride, Weston A price, and Sally Fallon Morell I was able to heal my gut, maintain a healthy weight, and stop sugar cravings. Not only that, but changing my diet, detoxing, and fasting helped me conquer my chronic depression and brain fog. 

I moved in roughly 9 months after Frank and I met. He had a daughter from a previous marriage, 50/50 custody. I was the new Mommy. I had never played house before. Nor was I in favor of having kids of my own. However, Frank made it clear that he wanted a big family and if I wanted to be with him that I would have to give him children. I was suddenly put in charge of this 4 year old girl, taking her to school, bathing her, feeding her, clothing her, teaching her, playing with her. Step-parenting was hard! I gave up everything for these two people who felt entitled to my service and were rarely appreciative of my presence. I had anxiety whenever she came over and I felt like an awful person. Frank was no help as he was constantly working, and would often tell me I was selfish and ungrateful for the life he had provided me. 

Why couldn’t I just love this child? What was wrong with me? I wasn’t her parent, but had all the responsibilities of one. It wasn’t my place to discipline her, but when I talked to Frank about my concerns he would dismiss me. I read step-parenting book after step-parenting book, joined online forums, and went to therapy. There was never a solution. I was told stepfamilies don’t successfully blend until 7 years and sometimes longer. I was in it for the long haul. I wanted to do right by this child, but resentment grew as Frank and his daughter kept taking from an empty cup. Eventually I got used to the high levels of stress, being an outsider in my own home, and being Frank’s very last priority. 

And then, a year later, I got pregnant. We couldn’t access midwives through our healthcare system, so I researched free birthing and had an all-natural at home water birth. All my worries about motherhood vanished the first time I held my son, Henry. What seemed so unnatural with my stepdaughter suddenly became intuition. I came to understand that it was normal not to love your stepchildren. And I no longer beat myself up about it. It didn’t seem to matter that my relationship with Frank was crumbling or that his daughter was disrespectful. I had Henry, now. And my entire focus was on being there for him. 

Adjusting to a new baby sparked many more learning opportunities. Opportunities for introspection. I started speaking with my parents again and practicing forgiveness. Understanding my own childhood wounds helped me to figure out the kind of parent I wanted to be as well as the kind of life I wanted for him. I read books on home management, I learned to cook, I crocheted hats and sweaters, sewed tablecloths, and felted Christmas stockings. I picked up the bible for the first time and started going to a church down the street. I became Mom. 

Mom is a generalized term, but Mom is different for everyone. 

My blog is called making a home – from scratch living because coming from a dysfunctional home I had to redefine what home meant. I had to redefine what Mom meant. I was building the environment that would nurture my child and essentially be a place for me to heal and grow. I started to realize that families were the building blocks to civilization and no feminist could convince me that a career outside the home was more important than raising the world’s next generation of youth. 

Things between Frank and I progressively got worse. He was trying to finalize his divorce with his x-wife, while working on his rental properties and battling chronic fatigue. He experienced a major theft of property at his farmland a year prior that left us financially struggling, leaving him with little to no time to spend with the rest of us.

He was neglectful, called me names, and was violent when I cried. He believed that hitting me would resolve the mental health issues he claimed I had, through negative reinforcement. All this did was make me terrified to talk about how I felt. It didn’t make my emotional dysregulation, the result of his mistreatment of me, go away. I succumbed to never having an opinion of my own, and always following his command. He abused my religious beliefs by telling me it was my duty as a woman to obey, and went further claiming that his needs were more important than mine because he was the head of the household. He also told me I was stupid and that my time was better spent serving him and our children than having any of my own passion projects.

We fought often as I tried to tell him how unhappy I was, and he would tell me to leave, dismiss and invalidate me, gaslight me, give me the silent treatment, or punish me. At one point he convinced me the reason I was so emotional was that I had gotten my period back. It was a year after Henry was born. I wanted to believe this was true, so I pushed for another child. I remembered how happy I was holding Henry for the first time. So, we started trying. I quickly became pregnant again, but nothing changed. In fact, I started feeling sick and became so depressed that I avoided Frank and his daughter at all costs. I would skip family dinners, and I would go to bed at 6:30pm with my son Henry every night. I even developed an addiction to social media, mindlessly scrolling as it filled the void inside of me. 

The stress of living with Frank was consuming me. I was rarely present, only going through the motions. I felt my soul slowly dying. Finally, after yet another attempt to communicate how I felt, hoping he would care enough about me and our children to change. He told me to leave and something snapped inside of me. “I can’t do this anymore!” I had to get out. I packed a bag and left with our son, sleeping on friends’ couches, until I decided to return to Connecticut, grateful that my parents took me in. There I sat in my childhood room, reading nearly 20 books on marriage and another two on abuse, and watching endless YouTube videos on narcissism, grieving the life I thought I had and breaking the trauma bond that I had acquired. Here I was back to square one, having to start all over. 

Had I told the 18 year old version of myself that one day I would leave Frank, there is no way she would have believed me. Truly, up until that day I never thought I would leave, no matter how much I was suffering. I mentioned that in the years knowing Frank that I picked up the bible for the first time. This was no accident. It’s as if my life up until this point has been a planned series of events leading to the realization of my spiritual calling. I realize now that God was always with me, he was just waiting for me to choose him. What I mean by choose is the fact that God gave us free will, and in doing so he takes a fatherly role, just like a coach stands on the sidelines so does God. A coach doesn’t play the game for the you, just like God cannot live our lives for us. Therefore, he will not intervene and instead waits for us to choose. This free will may only be an illusion, however, because from a spiritual standpoint we only have two choices. We can choose to walk in love and light or we can choose to walk in darkness.

Anyone who has been in a relationship with a narcissistic abuser will know the unexplainable evil that rests behind their eyes. I believe I was in a relationship with someone who chose to let Satan/Lucifer/the devil/demons, whatever you want to call this evil presence, to consume him as a way to cope with his own childhood traumas. Instead of choosing God and Truth he chose the King of Lies. And while I would never blame a victim for someone else’s abusive actions, I had to come to terms with the fact that by staying with Frank I too was choosing the King of Lies. I was a coward. Jesus died for our sins. He is the ultimate example of courage and justice. Instead of confronting my childhood trauma I was running away from the pain because I valued being comfortable over doing the right thing, and in choosing comfort I allowed someone else to nearly destroy my soul. Funny enough it is argued that God made Lucifer for this exact purpose, to push humans towards spiritual growth through temptation and adversity. Pain is growth. And so, finally, for the first time in my whole life I chose to walk through the fire, and God was waiting for me on the other side. And just like Jesus I think there should be in all of us a desire to choose Truth over comfort. So, when people comment on my “strength” I merely point to God and say, “It was him.”

When I was a teenager, I had a victim mindset. I felt the world was against me. I didn’t understand that a good life was something I had to work for. I had to put effort into my life in order to reap its benefits. There are things that happen to us that may be 100% out of our control, but it isn’t until you take 100% responsibility for everything that happens in your life that you will be able to create long lasting change. Our lives are composed of a billion decisions, small decisions that you make every day, these decisions tell your story and give reason to who you are and where you are heading. Until you understand this fact, you will be exactly where I was, at 18 waiting for the world to hand me opportunities, love, and purpose and instead having the world walk all over me.

So, I moved back to Halifax. Broke up with Frank. Gave birth to our second son, alone, another all natural at home water birth, luckily with midwives present this time. Started going to therapy again. Cared for a newborn and toddler on my own postpartum. Got a part-time job.

Started planning my life.

Got a life coaching certification. Started a blog. Went back to college for a psychology degree. Continued the dream of an organic family farm and perhaps finding “the one.” 

Whatever you are struggling with, whether that be mental health issues, nutrition, parenting, or relationships, there’s a light inside of you and I want to help you find it and turn it on. Some of us didn’t get the unconditional love and guidance of our parents growing up, but that doesn’t mean you are a slave to your circumstances.

I think Cole Sprouse, an actor most known for his roles as Cody in The suite Life of Zach and Cody and Jughead in Riverdale, explains this concept beautifully.

“I do think that the circumstances of my life are, at least my childhood, are much like the sort of cliche narrative you hear a lot about child stars. But I don’t talk about it too much because I don’t ever want to be perceived as a victim of it. I am not and have never and never will be a victim of any circumstance I am in. I don’t wear victimhood on my shoulder. I don’t like to act like I am my wounds and to repeatedly be reminded of my wounds. What happened in my youth happened and carved me and forged me into the person I am today. For better, for purely better, even through pain, we trade trauma for wisdom. That’s what we do as humans. When we go through heavy experiences it deepens our eyes. You are given these lessons in your life so that you can triumph over them and use the traits that you have acquired from those lessons over time to carve out who you are.”

Our society, especially the media, likes to focus on the victimization of people through pain instead of recognizing the strength of triumphing over that pain. 

Here I share everything I have learned in the last 5 years and more as I continue my journey of self discovery and growth. Humans crave connection and I’ve made it my job to do just that; to connect and inspire. Check out my services page for my life coaching packages and online courses. I also sell children’s books, homeschool curricula, craft patterns, and more in my shop! 

It’s time to take your life back before your life takes you. 

Meghan Elaine ~ 11/18/2024